Holy
ground
Ah,
the ephemerality (per Meher) of existence!
At
times a river, a quagmire, a ruse, a nightmare,
far
removed from the Real Existence.
Yet
in our prayers we do not plead for God
to
awaken us from the dream,
but
to make it a better dream,
one
nearer to our fancy, more suitable to our nature –
this
dream ever-shifting, ever drifting downstream,
as
we follow in its wake, no wheel or rudder
in
our grasp and we lose our faith
or
find it eviscerated; abandoning God
for
the dream itself, blaming Him
for
not answering our prayers
when
it is the dream that fails us.
Our
one escape from this ages-old spell
is
to allow the Awakener
to
rouse us from our slumber,
free
us from illusion,
to
establish in us the Reality of God’s love
for
however long forever turns out to be.
O
child of God, gently, gently wend your way
downstream until your
reach Holy ground.
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